


Illumination

by kinsale_42



Series: Khadgar [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Broken Isles, Demons, F/M, Legion - Freeform, Mages, Magic, Paladins, Romance, Warlocks, illidari - Freeform, light - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 07:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8320099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinsale_42/pseuds/kinsale_42
Summary: As the Burning Legion stages another assault upon Azeroth, determined to destroy it, one paladin discovers a new reason to defend her world. A surprising connection with a powerful archmage leads to an unusual merging of arcane and holy forces that will be put to the test in the war against the demon hordes.
*In which an archmage learns about the light and how to swing it*





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note: In an effort to stay true to the game, much of the Ashbringer recovery sequence speech is quoted directly.

 

PROLOGUE

On a good night she'd dream of childhood picnics on the Lordamere shore: skipping stones and playing tag with her older brother and two younger sisters while her mother and father sat by a campfire, roasting fresh caught fish and the potatoes they'd brought with them from the garden.

"Don't get your feet wet!" Mother would shout, reminding them of the scary stories they'd been told of toothy monsters in the depths, the murlocs and threshfins, that might erupt from the water to swallow small children whole. But they weren't really frightened so much as circumspect, observing the ritual the same way they avoided stepping on cracks in the paving and held their breath as they crossed bridges. The lake was always so lovely in those dreams.

After they'd eaten, the family would pack up their things and climb up on their ponies for the afternoon trek back up into the hills to Strahnbrad. Every trip, when they reached that last overlook before they lost sight of the lake, they would turn and watch as the evening came down and the night torches flickered on in the far off city. The sky would fade towards violet and the lake would deepen into a mystical, enchanting blue.

When she awoke from these dreams, she thought she would never see the like of that blue again. After all the war and treachery that led to the ruin of their peaceful lives and their home in Alterac, she was not convinced there was anything left so pure in all the world.

Until that day in Draenor.

***

 

***

Kinsale would not have advanced to the level of expedition garrison commander if she had not been so diligent in successfully completing hundreds of assigned missions over the years. As a paladin, she strove to provide thoughtful service toward all of Azeroth, man and beast, in the name of the Light. She felt she owed much to the kindness of her foster family, and aimed to honor their gift to her as best she could by protecting others who could not protect themselves. It kept her going.

But that day, as dusk drew down upon the Shadowmoon forests, Kinsale saw that miraculous color once more and a new spark was kindled within her. She was handing over her latest report at Starfall Outpost when she looked up into Khadgar's eyes and was struck by fathomless depths of that same twilit-Lordamere blue that haunted her dreams. It took her breath away.

"Kinsale, you are my champion," he said. He held her soul in his gaze, whether he knew it or not, and those words locked it in. Suddenly she was no longer a mere servant of the people and a dutiful steward of the Light.

She was Khadgar's champion.

All the times before when she had reported to him directly, worked side by side with him to ensure the success of a mission, all that time and she had never really seen him before. Never caught a glimpse of the man he was. Never thought she could possibly have any impact on his life.

Everyone knew about him. They knew the power he wielded, the victories he'd achieved, the trials he'd endured, the pain he'd suffered. Kinsale had always accepted these things at face value. She knew him to be a good man, a talented mage, willing and able to use his skills to protect and defend not just the Alliance but all of Azeroth and beyond. She respected him for all this.

But did he not just tell her that she was one who could act for him where he could not, that she was his shield, his sword, his light against the darkness of the world? Was she not his own champion?

The forest was suddenly alive with scent and the rustling of leaves on the evening breeze. His words were like melody in the twilight, and she could still see his eyes radiant in the soft glow of his staff and the flicker of the watchfire. She found her voice at last.

"It is truly good to serve you, sir," she said, and quietly took her leave.

Khadgar watched after her as she faded into the shadows around the camp, stretching his awareness as far as he dared without shifting his presence. He had felt something change during their conversation, but he hesitated to question his instinct too closely, and he'd learned decades ago to forgo magic where friendships were concerned. He let her slip away, and after a few moments, he returned to his work.

***

For days, she saw his face wherever she looked. Every action carried a new weight of honor and tribute. Every task was now completed with joy, knowing that every moment brought her closer to seeing him again.

Then the announcement arrived. The Burning Legion was once again mounting an attack upon Azeroth. The rumor was that this was the biggest incursion ever seen. All hands were being summoned to Stormwind Harbor for immediate deployment.

The Burning Legion. Khadgar had been battling to save Azeroth from it since he was barely an apprentice. Each invading wave had gradually been beaten back, at much cost to the people and the environment of his beloved world. Every encounter took the lives of many valiant folk, soldier and civilian alike, yet the demons kept pouring out of the hellish green portals to corrupt the people and suck the land and its creatures dry of life energy. It seemed never-ending until suddenly the demons would withdraw, vanishing back to their own realm to recharge for the next attempt to conquer Azeroth. Sometimes it was almost too much to bear.

Kinsale steeled herself for prolonged battle. She knew that paladins were traditionally the front line for fighting demons, indeed, she had been on that front line more than once. She had heard whispers that a new force would be joining them, a group of demon hunters specially bred or trained to hunt down and eradicate the Burning Legion. Followers of Illidan they said, imprisoned for years beyond counting because of their too-close relationship to fel energies. If fighters such as these were to be drafted, the threat must be serious indeed.

The battle for Broken Shore itself was mostly a show of force. Gul'dan bared his teeth and flashed his weapons but allowed a fair percentage of troops to escape his clutches. Even so, many fell that day, from fresh recruits to kings. Many more, including her own mentor, had been captured. It was a both a threat and a distraction, for while they fought in the Broken Isles, the Legion was sending out invasion forces across both Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor to harry the civilian population and demoralize the garrisons.

After paying her respects to the old king and swearing fealty to the new king in Stormwind, she met with the Illidari envoy. He had much to show her about the insidious infiltration of the Legion into Azeroth's everyday affairs. Kinsale agreed that swift action must be taken, and gathered her loyal troops to fight the demon commanders wherever they made landfall. She hesitated to put full trust in the Illidari until they had been tested, and proved themselves, but she approached every new potential ally in the same way. As it was, they showed themselves to be able combatants in the face of the demon armies, energetic and fearless against the Legion's campaign of terror.

After two weeks of ceaseless assault across the globe, the fel forces withdrew slightly, and Kinsale took the opportunity to go off-world to her Draenor garrison for a night's rest and a few hot meals and a chance to wash the stink of battle from her skin.

She was buckling on her traveling gear for the return to Stormwind when the innkeeper tapped on the door. It opened, and Khadgar's arcane servant glided into the room. The innkeeper tactfully withdrew and closed the door.

"Commander," it said, with Khadgar's voice, "I need to present a plan to the Council in Dalaran and I would value your support. If there are any questions about the recent battles, your first-hand experience would provide for accurate answers, and your reporting is always detailed and to the point. Would you please join me in Dalaran as soon as possible? I have prepared my servant to offer you immediate teleportation." With that, the arcane servant began channeling a teleportation spell. Kinsale picked up her pack and her heavy mace, and stepped through the portal. She wasn't sure if her heart raced from the effects of arcane transportation or from the thought of standing beside Khadgar once more.

She strode purposefully across Dalaran from the portal exit zone to the Violet Citadel, where Khadgar waited outside, planning out his speech to the Council of Six.

"Khadgar. Archmage. I came as soon as I received your message." Kinsale did not feel like a fluttery schoolgirl with a crush. She felt like a burning meteor hurtling towards the earth, direct and aflame with certainty. She was meant to fight for him, and in doing so, she would fight for Azeroth and the survival of all its creatures.

His eyes softened at the sight of her. Even weary from days of battle she glowed with the force of the Light. The lilt in her voice reminded him of her Dwarven fostering. There is still good in this world, he reminded himself, there is still much to defend from evil.

"Kinsale," he replied, "it is very good to see you. Please, walk with me and I will explain my plan." They walked slowly towards the council chamber as he detailed that for which he sought to obtain approval from the Council of Six. "This may be awkward, because some have suffered much and are not yet able to see clear of revenge and pain. We must be patient with the suffering, but we cannot allow it to stand in the way of a unified fight against the Legion." His face turned grim for a moment. She felt a brief crackle in the air as his anger flared up but was swiftly brought under control.

Side by side, shoulders nearly touching, they turned together and entered the council chamber.

***

The council session was just the beginning of a long day of adventure in search of answers that took them at last to Karazhan, the echoing tower of secrets and strange occurrences, the place where Khadgar had been forced to kill his mentor and was subsequently cursed to appear prematurely aged. In recent years the effects of this curse seemed to have waned, whether through natural decay or curative magic, Kinsale did not know. She was fairly certain, however, that Khadgar did not lightly suggest a trip to Karazhan, in any circumstances.

"I have many memories of this place," he said as they entered the ruined halls. "Most have affected me deeply. I still remember good times alongside the tragedy." He smiled. "The best of all was the library. So many wonders, so many fascinating histories. Records of amazing  accomplishments and mundane details of everyday lives. It represents the full spectrum of life on Azeroth. I am always pleased to return to the library."

Kinsale nodded as she followed him up the stairs. "Books can be very powerful things," she said.

They soon reached the library, after dealing with some unruly sentries and strengthening the wards against demonic intrusion. Somewhere in the stacks there was record of a collection of artifacts that, when brought together, could be instrumental in eradicating the Legion and saving the world. They just had to find it.

Some time later, when they were both a bit covered in dust and cobwebs, Khadgar shouted from the other side of the room, "Ah! I found it!"

Kinsale replaced the book she had just pulled from the shelf and ran to peer over his shoulder at the text. In his hands the runes glowed faintly as he turned the pages.

"This doesn't give us specific locations, but it does have a lot of background material about the Pillars of Creation. It should give us an excellent start at tracking them down." He closed the book and his face brightened. "If what we learned from Magni in Ulduar is correct, I think we just might stand a chance, Kinsale. I have hope for the future again."

"And now," he said, brushing a cobweb off his sleeve, "I could use a drink. Research is thirsty work." He reached over and wiped a smudge of dust off of Kinsale's face and smiled. "Portal to Dalaran? I have a discount at the Legerdemain."

Kinsale smiled back. "Sure! I am always up for a pint, especially after good news."

***

They had ensured the book was secure with Archmage Modera before heading over to the inn for a refreshing beverage. Two pints later, Kinsale felt like it was entirely natural for her to be spending the entire day with the charismatic presumptive Guardian of Azeroth.

"There was one time," he was telling her, "when I was having my bath and a spider crawled up on the edge of the tub--a TINY spider, mind you, not one of those Duskwood monstrosities--and I was startled and instinctively iceblocked. Definitely NOT recommended while in the bath. Completely froze the bathwater." He shivered just remembering it. "Took me a while to recover from that one."

She laughed heartily. "That's better than the time in Shattrath when I had just learned to fly a gryphon solo and I summoned my mount and rode off the edge of Aldor rise because it was easier than a direct take-off, and too late discovered that I had summoned my ram instead of my gryphon. Hahahahaha, I spent some quality time with the spirit healer after that one. And me having spent my teens with the Wildhammers!"

Khadgar laughed with her. He was really quite attractive when he was happy and his eyes twinkled. Kinsale didn't think it was beer goggles. She was pretty sure she'd left those in her bank vault. It didn't even occur to her that he was thinking about her along similar lines.

"You know what the best thing about drinking with a mage is?" he asked.

"What's that?" Kinsale tilted her head, trying to guess the answer.

"Portal pub crawls! Where should we go next? What are all your favorite inns?"

"OH! Let's go to Ironforge, where I first discovered cherry grog when I was a freshly minted paladin." She downed the last of her ale as he got up and prepared the portal.

***

"Ah, Ironforge. And nearly Brewfest season, too." Khadgar was preparing to share another amusing anecdote, she could tell. "One time I got so schnockered at Brewfest, I was polymorphing critters, and I turned a rabbit into a sheep, then into a chicken, then into a stag (I'd been practicing a new spell based on druidic shapeshifting) and then I don't remember what happened next. I woke up the next morning with a huge hangover and hearing rumors of a strange beast that appeared to folks after they'd had too many brews. They called it a "wolpertinger" and supposedly you can still see it if you imbibe a few too many at Brewfest." He laughed, greatly amused at the memory.

Kinsale chuckled too. This was the best time she'd had in a long time. She had taken the responsibility of the Draenor garrison so seriously that she avoided revels and hadn't really socialized much at all. But if an archmage could find time, surely so could she? And the grog really was making her feel quite warm and fuzzy.

"Where are we going for our next round?" she asked. "Your pick."

"Hmmmm," he considered, looking at her thoughtfully. "I know a great place for fish and chips." And he opened a portal to Shattrath.

***

"I always liked Shattrath," she said, swallowing a large bite of crispy golden darter. "But I am sort of attuned to the Light, so I guess it's only natural."

Khadgar wasn't as riotous as he had been in Ironforge. He seemed to have settled into a more contented semi-inebriated state, with a soft smile that never left his face.

"The Light is an amazing thing," he said. "The time I spent here after I was cursed, it did a lot to heal me. A'dal taught me much that I would not have learned otherwise. It's my belief that together the Light and the arcane create a better resistance to the powers of void and fel than either would alone. And yet some Light-bearers are so unwilling to accept arcane-wielders and vice versa."

"I've never understood how some of my Light-bearing comrades could be so quick to dismiss the arcane as a power for good. They always point at the mana-addicts to prove how corrupting magic can be, and deny everything positive that has ever come from the arcane community. Power can corrupt anyone, arcane or holy. I mean, just look at the Scarlet Crusade."

"Precisely," Khadgar agreed. "It comes down to lust for power, really. I mean, Sargeras, as a titan, even a fallen titan, already has so much power that he must have a different agenda. But every being that has ever submitted to his design has sought the power he promised. To fight it we have to hold on to our humanity. We have to see the goodness in the world." He sighed. Kinsale was reminded of the late Archmage Rhonin's speech to Dalaran after the fall of Algalon.

"I need another drink," he said. "Where to? Your turn to choose."

Kinsale considered for a moment. "How about Halfhill Market Inn? The drinks are strong, the beds are soft, and if we get kicked out we can always crash at the farm. Also, the Pandaren are geniuses with hangover cures."

"Done," replied Khadgar and created the portal.

***

A few Pandaren brews later, neither Kinsale nor Khadgar were too steady on their feet. They sat together in a corner booth, leaning against each other for support.

"This was a grand idea, Khadgar," said Kinsale, forming her words carefully. "I haven't had a night like this in absolutely ages. My dwarven friends would be so proud."

He turned to smile at her, close enough to feel his breath on her cheek. "We should do this more often. You know, to honor your dwarven friends. Or something." In the corner of the room a moth suddenly turned into a rabbit with a little puff of smoke. "I have lots more stories, and I would be very pleased to hear more of yours. I only know what the records tell of you and what I learned in Draenor."

"And," he said, poking her in the shoulder, "I was very disappointed you didn't work with me to get yourself a legendary ring."

"Ahhhhh," she replied. "I have never been that interested in glory, and there was so much at the garrison to look after, and the shipyard, and supplying everyone with resources to share out among the locals. I just didn't really have the time or the um, the er, uh," she tried desperately to think of the word she meant, " _ inclination _ ."

"Oh, well, if everyone had a legendary they wouldn't be so legendary, I suppose." He winked at her.

"So true. One more round before sleep? I'm guessing there will be work to be done tomorrow." Kinsale yawned. Her head drifted a little closer to Khadgar's shoulder and he detected a hint of scent rising in the warmth from her body. He had wished for such simple moments for so many years and had so few opportunities to experience them. This was a gift indeed and he treasured it, though it was a small thing.

"Barkeep? One more round please!" He looked down at Kinsale, who was yawning again. "And then someone to tuck us into our beds."

***

Kinsale woke early the next morning, but the open accommodation loft in the inn was empty except for her. On the chest beside the bed there was a small glass of the famous Pandaren hangover cure, a large steaming mug that smelled like coffee, and a small blue mana gem. She sat up on the edge of the bed, downed the contents of the glass, took a deep draught of the coffee, and picked up the mana gem. It made her fingers tingle slightly and she heard Khadgar's voice, seemingly from inside her head.

"Good morning! I really quite enjoyed the evening's travels and wanted to thank you for sharing it with me. I'm sorry I had to return to Dalaran so very early, I was looking forward to breakfast. I'll have to owe you one. But we're preparing to relocate the city to the Broken Isles and of course I must be there. Please join me when you've rested and we will begin the search for the Pillars."

She took her time getting prepared for the day. It may have been a result of the overindulgence the night before, but she carried a vague sense of unease within her. Kinsale carefully probed the possible reasons for this. Was she becoming too personally attached to Khadgar too quickly? She really didn't know him that well, beyond what everyone else knew. One could never seem to escape the rumours that he had been corrupted when Medivh cursed him so long ago. And now he was carrying Medivh's infamous staff, Atiesh, and using raven form when it suited him. Khadgar claimed to have no wish to be named the new Guardian of Tirisfal, but he had taken up the trappings and was known to wield the powerful magic of former Guardians.

Kinsale followed this to another potential problem. Was the quest to locate and bring together the Pillars of Creation really one that would save Azeroth or one that would doom it to destruction by giving the Legion, or some other dark force, the tools of the titans? Could a corrupt Khadgar really be orchestrating all this?

There were so many questions and so few definite answers. She stood on the porch of the Halfhill Market Inn and gazed out over the fields, watching the mist rise up from the crops in the morning sunlight. There were many doubts, yet there was also that small glowing candle-flame of warmth within her. She had faith in the Light, and knew that it could see much that was invisible to mere humans. If she could just trust in the Light to guide her, as she had so many times before, then she could be at peace with whatever happened.

The selfish part of her hoped that it would involve Khadgar being as honorable as he seemed.

***

The moment she set foot in Dalaran, she was approached by Lord Maxwell Tyrosus, one of her fellow high ranking paladins. "Kinsale! A word, if I may?"

"Of course, Tyrosus. What can I do for you?" Kinsale followed him to where two other paladins were standing on Krasus' Landing.

"We've just come from a small gathering of leaders of the various class halls of Azeroth, where a list of powerful artifacts was compiled that would give us an advantage in the war against the Legion, provided they are in the right hands. Orik and Travard and I believe you are one of the champions who could use such an artifact to great benefit. Specifically, the Ashbringer."

She was startled by the suggestion. "I'm very flattered, but the Ashbringer? We all saw it lost with Tirion Fordring at the Broken Shore. Have you located it?" She felt the knot of grief that she'd been ignoring since the day of the failed attack threaten to overtake her again. She hadn't actually seen him die, so she had been able thus far to deny to herself that it had happened at all.

"It must be down there on that island somewhere. It's the strongest outpost of the Legion in the Broken Isles. We need to recover it at all costs. I mean," Tyrosus drew a sharp breath, "consider the alternative. The Ashbringer in the hands of the Burning Legion?"

Kinsale sighed and nodded. "You make a fair point. What do you suggest?"

"Well, after our meeting, I needed to reflect upon what we had decided and where it might take us. So on the way back to Dalaran, I stopped by Uther's tomb. I like to go there when I need a moment of contemplation, and often I feel that he offers me his guidance from beyond the veil. Today his voice was stronger than ever, saying that Tirion is not yet dead, that we may still find him and the sword together near the Tomb of Sargeras. If you would place your faith in me and in what I have learned from Uther, then we should go there and search. And quickly, for if Tirion lives, we must save him." Tyrosus was deadly serious. Kinsale had never known him to make foolish decisions in his all his time in service to the Light, so she took him at his word. If Uther had spoken to him and he believed it, she would not question it. In some places the separation between worlds was very thin, and she had seen stranger things herself.

"Let's do it. If Tirion lives..." she trailed off. If her mentor still lived and she could save him from torment, she would do whatever was necessary. "What do you need from me?"

"I have taken the liberty of assembling a force from Light's Hope. They should be arriving here at any minute." And as soon as he spoke, gryphons wearing Argent Crusade livery began landing around them. Eight paladins of varying specializations had joined them on the Landing. Tyrosus lifted his voice. "Paladins! You have joined us today, willing to descend into the depths of hell itself to recover our Highlord Tirion Fordring and his holy weapon, the Ashbringer. We shall fight for the freedom and safety of Azeroth under Kinsale's command." Tyrosus nodded at Kinsale.

"Let us show the Legion what the Light means to us!" she said to the assembled group, and gestured for them to mount up. Her meeting with Khadgar would have to wait. She signalled one of the Dalaran mages and asked him to convey her regrets to the Archmage. He nodded and blinked across the Landing as she began climbing up the shoulder of a gryphon.

They took off from Dalaran and descended as a wing formation upon the isle that bore the evil weight of the Tomb of Sargeras. Kinsale sensed a glimmer of Light coming from somewhere behind a ruined marble temple, worn down by centuries beneath the sea before the island had been raised again by Gul'dan.

"There!" she shouted to Tyrosus and pointed in the direction of the temple. The wing wheeled over to the east and landed on the beach before the ruin. They could see a milling congregation of Legion demons gathered behind the temple, surrounded by glowing green pools of fel lava. An inquisitor, one of the eredar charged with torturing and converting prisoners, hovered between the defense force and the entrance to a gaping cavern. The paladins dismounted swiftly and charged as one at the front ranks, quickly dispatching the lesser demons with flashing swords and hammers and the glow of the Light against the fel green fire and dark stone that surrounded them. Gradually they worked their way closer to the inquisitor at the rear. The larger fel lords and doomguards did not fall so easily as the imps and wyrmtongues at the front, having better defenses and more powerful attacks.

They taunted Kinsale and her paladins. "Surrender to death now, for Jailer Zerus will not be so kind."

"The Legion will triumph! You can never stand against us!"

"You do not need to be alive for us to learn your secrets!"

But one by one, the demons fell. Even the large mo'arg that stood as Jailer Zerus' last defender could not stand long against a dozen paladins charged with the rescue of their Highlord and the sacred artifact that could help turn the tide in this new war.

Jailer Zerus sought to force them into despair and rage by tormenting Tirion Fordring even as they approached, but it only reinforced their belief that he still lived and gave them a fresh burst of righteous fury when they heard Tirion shout, "No! The Light burns in my heart...I will NEVER surrender!"

With holy justice blazing, Kinsale and Tyrosus and all the warriors of the Light quickly overcame Jailer Zerus and they stormed past him into the cavernous room that held Tirion and several other prisoners. Tirion was encased in fel crystal, a powerful prison for a powerful prisoner. Tyrosus said, "I will break Tirion free. You must find the Ashbringer, while there's still time."

Kinsale nodded and headed for the narrower tunnel at the far end of the cavern. It was dimly lit, but lit nonetheless by a trickle of fel lava that ran along the path. The golden glow of her mace added its own illumination.The demon hounds that lay in wait for her lost their cloak of shadow as she approached, and she was able to strike them with bolts of holy fire before they could pounce, seriously reducing their stamina and enabling her to dispatch them quickly with her weapon and continue on.

The tunnel was shorter than she anticipated and opened up into an even larger cavern than the last, with less fel fire to illuminate it. In the shadowy darkness she could see the leaning shapes of ruined marble architecture. From the back of the cavern she heard a voice like the grating of metal against stone, but deep and cold as the void. She recognized it from years past, from forays into Stratholme when she was learning to fight against the Scourge. Balnazzar.

"Ah, the Light's greatest champion has arrived to claim the holy Ashbringer and lay waste to my kin," the voice boomed. Balnazzar loomed out of the shadow, his eyes glowing like violet embers. "They say only the pure can wield the highblade. Come, champion, and claim your destiny!"

Suddenly a thin pillar of light dazzled her, rising up from the top of a broken marble stair. The Ashbringer! Could Balnazzar have summoned that light, or was it the Light itself, guiding her? What choice did she have? She ran for the sword and pulled it out from where the tip had been forced into the cracks of the stone to stand the blade upright. Kinsale knew it would be a trap of some sort and whirled round, prepared to use the Ashbringer on anything that attacked.

And there was Balnazzar in front of her, threatening to rip the soul from her flesh and make her body his own. He slashed at her, both with his claws and with the concentrated energy that flew from his hands. She parried and dodged his first attacks, and swung the Ashbringer in the direction of his midsection. His great violet wings spread and he lifted off the ground to evade her attack, and to give him range to work up another ball of fel power to send at his opponent.

"I will turn you into a weapon of the Legion. I will use your hollow shell to corrupt and destroy everything you ever loved, piece by piece." Balnazzar laughed, an echoing laugh that sounded more like a volcanic event than an expression of mirth.

Kinsale let the Light fill her, to cancel out the threat of despair. She chanted prayers and words of power under her breath to counteract the darkness and pain that Balnazzar was promising her. In response, the Ashbringer glowed brighter and felt lighter in her hands. It almost seemed to move of its own will. The sword possessed an incredible power unlike any she had ever before wielded. She pressed the attack on Balnazzar, slashing with the Ashbringer, throwing holy energy at him like daggers of pure Light.

Then suddenly she was bound, constricted by magic chains. Her breath was strained. She fought against the chains, against the panic of capture, and struggled to hold onto the strength she carried within her as a consecrated paladin. She heard Tirion's voice in her mind. "Give me the strength to shatter these bonds," he whispered. And suddenly she knew the words to speak to summon the power of unbreakable will. Her lips moved to form them, though she had no breath to speak aloud. It was enough, and the chains disintegrated. Kinsale could breathe once more and her holy fury burned as strong as ever as she charged at the demon lord.

Balnazzar responded by summoning minions. Now he was just playing with her. Perhaps he did not expect to see her fight so valiantly, or wield the Ashbringer like it was her own, but he also was no longer going to great lengths to exterminate her. It seemed more like a test. Finally the demon cast a protective shield around himself.

"Our journey together has just begun, paladin," he said, laughing again in that mirthless way he had. The air around him shimmered and he vanished. It was just Kinsale and the silent shadows left in the room. She turned and ran back to the chamber where Tirion lay, freed at last from his crystalline prison.

Her insides twisted in pain when she saw her respected mentor so obviously suffering. Even the Light could not restore him, though it was probably what allowed him to endure as long as he had. He had survived long enough to tell her what he needed to.

"The blade," he whispered as she knelt by his side. "It is yours now... You must stop them. The Legion...do not surrender. You must become the Ashbringer..." The glow that surrounded him swelled to a dazzling golden aura and then faded as his spirit left his body. It felt as though reality had dissolved for Kinsale.

It seemed like she had been kneeling there for an eternity, though it was really only a moment before Maxwell Tyrosus placed a hand on her arm. "We must get Tirion back to Light's Hope, and quickly, before the demons return."

She looked at him blankly for a moment until the meaning returned to the sounds. She nodded. "Yes. He deserves a place of honor there. Let's go." And together, and with the help of two other paladins, they lifted the Highlord's body with reverence and carried him out of the cavern to be secured on the back of a gryphon.

It was not a short flight to the Plaguelands from Broken Shore, but Kinsale could remember none of it, save the weight of the celebrated sword she carried on her back and the feeling of loss she carried in her soul. It was not the first friend she had lost, nor would it be the last, but she never seemed to develop an immunity to the sense of devastation. Some small detached part of her mind suggested that this was good. If she had no sense of loss, she would be less compassionate, less human. Still, she felt the chill of the void within her and lacked the strength to fight it.

When they arrived at Light's Hope Chapel, they were quickly surrounded by the paladins and other folk who made it their home. Tirion Fordring was carried into the crypt for burial preparations and the warriors of the Light gathered in the great hall beneath the chapel for remembrances.

Tyrosus stepped up before the assembly and cleared his throat. The sixty or so paladins in the hall turned their heads in unison. "We are faced with challenging times," he said. "Today we lost a great leader, and with the Legion snapping at our heels we can not afford to be without good leadership. More than that, we can not afford to go forth in our campaign against the demonic onslaught without an organization unified under a common banner, with a common cause, and a clear directive for action. I propose that we reinstate the Order of the Silver Hand, and further propose that we elevate Kinsale Stormhammer to the rank of Highlord, in honor of Tirion Fordring's dying declaration."

Stormhammer. How long had it been since someone had called her that? She had been nicknamed Stormhammer in jest for showing up for paladin training with the signature Wildhammer weapon, more suitable for shamans than warriors of the Light. And it had stuck after she had proved her ability to strike down foes in battle like the proverbial tempest. But amongst her closest associates, it was rarely used. She hadn't heard it aloud in ages.

The rest of Maxwell Tyrosus' statement took a moment to sink in, with her mind still dazed from the grief of Tyrion's death and the confusion of the confrontation with the dreadlord Balnazzar. The cheer that had gone up after the words were spoken made it even more difficult to parse. Wait, he was suggesting that she should lead a new Order of the Silver Hand against the Legion? And...people were cheering? She felt kind hands pushing her towards where Tyrosus was standing before the Libram of Ancient Kings. She joined him at the altar.

"Your deeds have proven you a worthy leader, Kinsale, and with the sword you carry, you will be a powerful weapon against the Legion. If you choose to answer this call, you will be recorded in the Libram of Ancient Kings as the new Highlord, and you will be the shining beacon to spread the Light to the world." Tyrosus looked at her with hope in his eyes. She thought of Tirion's dying words, of the hunt for clues with Khadgar, of all the wondrousness of Azeroth and its inhabitants. She looked out at the gathering of paladins and saw all the faces she knew from years of service, radiant with purpose. She wanted to do this. She loved her world and she wanted to save it.

"I will." Her voice was stronger and carried better than she had expected, as the Light flowed through her. "I will stand for Azeroth!" Another cheer went up through the assembly.

***

It was late the next night when Kinsale returned to Dalaran, well past the fading of twilight. She stood at the edge of Krasus' Landing, hypnotized by the fel green light emanating from the isle of the Broken Shore. It was a crystal clear night and her view of the Tomb of Sargeras was virtually unobstructed, with only that tiny floating island off the edge of Dalaran silhouetted against the glow of felfire.

The breeze that blew at the floating city's elevation was usually cool, but tonight it seemed as cold as death itself. She welcomed the chill; it numbed her and kept the tumult of emotion from overwhelming her. There was a fire inside her that needed to be contained. All the rage and fear and loss made her head spin. Flashbacks were intertwining in her mind's eye of all the loved ones who had been taken before their time, destroyed by things she could not prevent or protect against.

Her father had been killed by the traitor Lord Perenolde for attempting to get word to King Terenas of Lordaeron of the Alterac ruler's treachery. The rest of the family had been forced into hiding, and when Kinsale and her older brother, Andrik, had snuck back home to retrieve their grandfather's sword and holy libram, he too had vanished. Brigands had set upon them, and knocked Kinsale unconscious almost at once and left her for dead. She never knew what happened to her brother.

Her mother and younger sisters, too, had disappeared. She had been rescued that night in Alterac by the rarest of dwarf paladins, a Wildhammer, who had been in the midst of combat in Alterac Valley when he saw a great shining column of light up in the hills. It was Kinsale and her grandfather's libram. He found her barely alive and carried her with great haste to the safest place he knew, his family's cottage in the Hinterlands. By the time she awoke, days later, the hiding place where her family had sheltered in the mountains was deserted. MacGregor, the kind dwarf paladin who had rescued her, had sought for news in Southshore and further abroad but always came back empty handed.

And then one day, MacGregor, too, did not come home. He fell in a skirmish against some orcs in Arathi, and his wounds were too grievous to heal. The greatest protector of her second decade was gone. She remembered how earnestly she had vowed then to honor his memory by becoming as great a defender as he had been. His family, who had taken her in as if a lost lamb and cared for her as one of their own, had seen the Light within her as they had with their son, and though Wildhammers as a general rule did not follow the path of the Light, they supported her desire to pursue a vocation. She dedicated her service to them as much as to her natural family.

There were so many people she had cared for that she missed terribly. Her best friend during her early military assignments in Outland, Kelwynn, had been lost on patrol one day. The young druid had been seeking to become a loremaster in the tradition of her family, and was often found with her nose in a book. She always signed up for strange, remote assignments, hoping to find some piece of forgotten history to add to her collection. They had confided in each other their hopes, the details of their romantic entanglements, their plans for the future. That day in Netherstorm,  six of them were riding, two by two, along the road around a manaforge, when a nether rift suddenly sprang up from nothing and sucked Kelwynn through before closing abruptly. It was as if she had never even been there. Kinsale still hoped that she was alive somewhere, in another universe or timeline, somewhere hospitable, but there was no way of knowing.  Kinsale had friends now, but she wished she still had Kelwynn. No one had ever taken her place.

Her eyes closed involuntarily when the image of the white wastes of Dragonblight came unbidden to her mind, and she felt the echoes of the racking despair that had crashed through her when she had turned after retreating from the Wrathgate under orders, and seen her beloved commander Bolvar Fordragon consumed by pestilence and fire. She had loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before, but she had never said a word of it, afraid to breach protocol for something purely personal and surely not reciprocated. She was just a lieutenant in his army, a nobody. So she used her love as a conduit with which to channel the Light, to concentrate her power and to serve him faithfully. Then he too fell, and all she could see was darkness. When she heard of the final confrontation at Icecrown Citadel, and his acceptance of undeath, she was so swallowed by grief that she thought the Light had forsaken her completely. Even now, years later, she ached for what could never have been and how little she had been able to do to prevent his destruction.

These were the memories that kept her awake some nights, turning them over and over in her mind, looking for where she had failed.

The feeling of being a great cavern of emptiness was returning. Kinsale stared at the fel miasma that lay below her, her eyes dry and scratchy in the wind. Her cloak whipped around her, but she didn't notice. Now her greatest paladin role model and mentor was gone like all the others. She knew death would come to everyone in its time, but she was forever unprepared. Tirion was not even young, but the manner of his death was still so troubling and so sudden that her heart twisted in her chest when she thought of it. Where would she be without his guidance? He was the one who had recommended she volunteer for garrison command in Draenor, and she had done well, but he had been there to give advice when she needed it. And now she had both lost him and stepped into his shoes, all in one stroke. She wondered if she could live up to his standard, with all the honor and courage and tolerance he had shown. Kinsale did not know. She felt so uncertain and hollow and alone. The only thing that seemed real was the weight of the sword she carried on her back, and the sense of obligation that came with it.

She was not alone. Beside her on the platform Khadgar waited. He saw the reflection of the cold, unforgiving marble of the tomb in her face and he knew what she was going through. He had lost so many of his own friends and comrades and mentors, yet still had to carry on. He knew what she faced. But she was not alone, he would stand with her. He wished his power lent itself to carrying her burden, but his magical gifts, though powerful, did not lay in that direction. All he could offer her were the human things, caring and compassion. A shoulder to rest upon in a time of need.

This was a time of need.

Kinsale had not noticed he had joined her until he spoke. "We will fight them," he said quietly. "We will honor his sacrifice. It will not be for nothing." Her face was a mask of fiercely controlled grief. He had seen the same expression on many other faces, and devoutly hoped she would be one of the few who did not let the accompanying rage take over.

Finally she turned her head to meet his gaze. Her eyes glittered. "I cared for them all, and I could not save any of them. The Light could not save them. What sort of protector and defender am I, that I can't even defend the people I love? What good am I to the world?" Suddenly her mind conjured a vision of Khadgar in Tirion's place, tortured and dying at the hands of a Legion inquisitor, and it was like a knife had been plunged into her chest. She drew a sharp breath and looked away. Her hand involuntarily flew to her face to cover her shock.

Khadgar caught a glimpse of the image she had seen, and was startled, as much by having seen it at all as by its content. He was not trained in reading minds. He did possess heightened sensory skills and was adept at scrying, though he was not sure if it was a natural gift or a result of his lifetime of training. Actually seeing what was in someone else's mind was something else entirely. And that feeling...was he feeling her shock and pain as well, or was it his own? He didn't know, but he did notice how pale she was, and how she was now shivering in the cold starlight.

"It's time to go inside," he told her. He touched her arm with his fingertips and with a movement of his other hand and a few whispered words he had teleported them into his private study. In the quiet dimness Kinsale looked lost and confused. Khadgar lifted the Ashbringer from her back and reverently laid it on a table before he guided her to a cushioned bench. He conjured a steaming mug of cider and reached behind some books on a shelf to pull out a flask of real brandy, pouring a small amount into the cider. He wrapped Kinsale's frozen hands around the warm mug and sat down next to her. "Get that in you," he said softly. "You will feel better."

She looked into the mug and lifted it to her lips. Somehow she remembered how to swallow. As she drank the cider as instructed, the shock began to subside and the chill began to fade. The pain remained, though, and when Khadgar tentatively put his arm around her, she leaned into him. He felt her shivering still, though she was well clad in good wool and leather flying gear. He pulled her closer.

Kinsale looked up at him, the mask of hard-won control beginning to melt from her features. "We have to make it stop," she said. "We can't let the Legion take the Light from Azeroth. How do I make it stop?"

Khadgar tried to sound more confident than he felt. "We fight them for every inch. Every champion alive today has that single goal. We band together and we fight." He lifted the nearly empty mug out of her unsteady hands and set it aside before it spilled. She turned her body towards him, burying her face in his shoulder and wrapping her arms around his waist. He put his other arm around her and held her gently.

He had wished so many times to hold her close like this, to feel her heart beating next to his, but he was deeply saddened that it was happening in such grim circumstances. War carried such a price. As he was thinking this, he felt her grip tighten and her fingers entwine in his blue netherweave coat. He adjusted to hold her more snugly against his chest. They sat together like that for some minutes. She listened to the steady rhythm of his heart beat, and its persistent reminder of life calmed her. His coat smelled of fir trees, and it smelled like home. He felt her gradually relax.

Finally Khadgar said softly, almost a whisper, "You can't let the Legion stop you from loving. If you do, they have already won." He felt Kinsale sigh. After a moment she released her hold on him and pulled away. He let his arms drop. He took the liberty of smoothing her hair where it had become rumpled from being pressed against his shoulder, and she caught his hand and held it against her cheek for just a moment and then released it.

"Thank you," she said. Kinsale didn't know what else to say. She had really needed this comfort, though she hadn't realized it. She still felt hollow inside, but it was not the chasm of the void, it was an empty vessel waiting to be filled with Light. And it was partly because Khadgar had been there and been so unexpectedly kind and warm. He was a powerful archmage, possibly the most powerful ever known, but he was also absolutely human and fully capable of compassion. Perhaps she had underestimated the connection they shared.

"No thanks are necessary. These times are troubling, and we could all use a little extra comfort to sustain us." He paused, considering his words. "I hope you will let me know when you need a friend. Anytime." He wished he could offer more than reassurance and a shoulder to cry on. The vision he'd seen through her eyes troubled him, almost as much for the fact that he'd seen it as for what it had shown him. What did it signify? What could be done about it?

Kinsale nodded slowly. "I will remember." She rose from the bench and looked around the room. She looked at the Ashbringer, the symbol of her heritage and her fate, where it lay silently on a table. "I should go," she said. "I must prepare for...for everything."

Khadgar stood up. "Of course. There is much for which to prepare." He was, as always, sad to see her go. Would there ever be a day that she didn't just calmly turn and walk away from him?

Kinsale began to turn towards her sword, but on impulse she turned back to face Khadgar and surprised him with a fierce hug. He smiled to himself as he squeezed her back. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Ashbringer had taken on a bit of a glimmer in the dimly lit room. The Light is still here, he thought. With her. With us.

***

"Mind reading, you say?" Kalec raised a perfect representation of a half-elven eyebrow. Because the former dragon aspect was one of Khadgar's closest and most trusted associates, and also the one such friend currently in Dalaran, Khadgar had sought him out for some theoretical discussion. It was very late, but hours kept in the city could easily be described as erratic. There had been no question that Kalec would still be awake and up for such a conversation.

"Not like reading someone or the imprint they've left on an object, but actually seeing the images in their mind and feeling their emotions." Khadgar's own eyebrows, prematurely white like his hair, were drawn together in vague perturbation. "I've had much experience and practice with the former, but the latter is not something I'm used to as a spontaneous occurrence. Yet it was unlike a vision. It didn't surround or transport me. It was a snapshot."

Kalec nodded. "It sounds rather like something that I've heard the priests use. Mind vision. Only you're not trained in the Light, as such. You've spent a lot of time with those who are, though, perhaps something rubbed off?"

"I don't know." Khadgar shook his head slightly. "It never happened before, not even with the strongest Light bearers." He thought of his old friend Turalyon, both priest and warrior, one of the first paladins, long missing from this world.

Kalec stared at Khadgar, probing delicately for hints of what the real questions were. This was not simply about theory. Khadgar knew as much about scrying and visions as any mage, if not more than anyone. Khadgar's brow furrowed as he stared at his map table. He was not seeing the maps, but Kinsale's face, white with shock, her hand drawn to her mouth.

"So you've developed a connection of some kind with someone, then, and they imagined something and it was of such a nature that it projected to you. What troubles you more, the connection or the image?" Kalec was firing exceedingly close to the mark.

Khadgar sighed. "Ah, friend. You know me well." He looked up at Kalec. "Both trouble me. What if I forced the link as a result of my own desires? And where did the image originate? Could it be a true seeing?"

Kalec nodded again, considering the possibilities. "If you had created the link yourself, you would have done it consciously. I know few who guard their use of power as carefully as you. As for the image itself, I could not say. You have not told me who saw it or what the circumstances were." He had his suspicions who was implicated but knew that if Khadgar were to say out loud who had affected him so deeply, it would make him feel less like he had imagined things.

Khadgar's darkened eyes met Kalec's. "It was after our new Highlord had returned from laying Fordring to his final rest. She saw me, dead or dying, in a dreadlord's chains." He swallowed. "And it felt like a knife in her heart."

Kalec permitted himself a quiet smile. It was precisely who he had suspected. He had seen Khadgar's face light up on more than one occasion when the paladin was near. Kalec had first met Kinsale a number of years before, and had run into her on a number of occasions since. He did not know her well, but knew her reputation as a paladin was completely in line with his personal impressions. "She had just returned from burying her mentor. She was deep in grief and loss and it would be thoroughly natural for her to imagine losing someone else she cares about. And if I know anything about her at all, the only influence you had on her affections was being yourself. If you have developed a link between you, it was as much her doing as yours. Just try to remain open to the possibilities. Trust your instincts. Trust hers."

Khadgar did not feel resolved, but his friend's words comforted him. And he was fully aware that even if the image he had seen was a true one, nothing could be done to divert his course.

***

Kinsale was slashing a target dummy to ribbons in the foregate of the Violet Hold when Kalec found her. The Ashbringer was a completely different animal to the axes and maces she was used to, and she knew that she needed to learn to control it and not rely entirely on the sword's own power. She paused when she saw the archmage approach, and wiped the sweat from her face.

"Archmage. Good morning," she greeted him, still catching her breath.

"Good morning to you, Highlord," he replied, inclining his head slightly. Her new title still sounded strange to her ears, though Kalec said it quite naturally. He had always seemed imperturbable and appeared unsurprised by most human events, though.

Kalec got right to the point. "Khadgar wishes to see you," he said, not bothering with an honorific. He did not fail to miss how the tension in her face cleared when he delivered the message. Yes, there was a connection between those two. He had hoped to see indications of one, for his friend's sake. "He has prepared your briefing."

Kinsale nodded and pulled off the heavy mail overshirt she wore and stowed it in her satchel. She straightened her tunic and smoothed her hair quickly before picking up her bag and her sword. "Of course. I am ready," she said, and followed Kalec out into the street.

She was surprised that Kalec himself had come to fetch her, and not the usual arcane servant. Was this a privilege of her new rank, or something else? She had met him several times previously but she wouldn't say they were close acquaintances, much less friends. Perhaps it was because he was friends with Khadgar that he was performing this favor.

Kalec merely wanted to look at Kinsale afresh, to see what his friend saw. He had watched her from the shadow of the entrance to the Violet Hold foregate for some minutes before interrupting her training. She was not young, perhaps as much as forty now? But her body was strong and athletic, her auburn hair still flashed copper in the sunlight, her cheeks flushed pink with the exertion of swordplay. The subtle radiance that illuminated the Ashbringer surrounded her as well. Even in practice, she was focused on the Light. It was a good sign.

Now, as they walked together through the town, he could see the sprinkling of freckles on her cheeks, and the smile lines that were beginning to form at the corners of her hazel eyes. Kinsale did not chatter like some people, which gave one the impression that her mind was on matters of graver import than commonplace trivia, but he had known her to laugh and had seen it transform her. Yes, he could see what Khadgar saw.

Before they reached the entrance to the Chamber of the Guardian, Kalec stopped and Kinsale turned to see why. He was looking at her with a slightly more enigmatic gaze than usual. When he spoke, his words did little to clarify the situation, as she often found to be the case with dragons.

"The Light begets life, and the arcane composes order," he said. "Khadgar would do well to keep you close, and you would benefit from his company, too, I think." He smiled. "It would certainly be heartening, in these times."

Kinsale did not know how to answer, but apparently Kalec did not expect an answer. He inclined his head towards her once more. "The Light be with you, paladin." And he turned and walked away towards the Violet Citadel.

She stood there for a few minutes, considering her faith and the gifts the Light had given her: a focus, a purpose, means to achieve her goals. It frequently replenished her hope for the future and helped her overcome her grief for the past. What was it offering her now? What was Kalec suggesting? A collaboration, a partnership? Love? This was surely not the time for the distraction of romantic love, too many battles still lay ahead. She sighed. Where was Tirion when she needed advice?

***

Inside his study, Khadgar looked at the maps and notes spread across the table. He'd been trying to drive back the Legion for thirty years, and he knew well enough that it would not be simple. He got the sense that they were after something specific this time, after the incident with Gul'dan in the Tomb of Sargeras. He wished he knew what it was, because it would make planning an effective offense so much simpler. It was already nearly a month since the current invasion had begun and he was frustrated that they were still just rallying forces and preparing defenses.

He briefly tried to picture a life not entirely spent trying to defend Azeroth from the Legion. There would be so much time to study history and nature, and to spend with friends. He sighed.

The door opened and Kinsale peeked around the edge of it. Khadgar looked up and the worry vanished from his face when he saw her. "Come in!" he said. "How are you today?" He noticed the pink cheeks and the sweat-dampened hair and the residual glow her morning training had given her, and it relieved his mind about the strength of her constitution. She would not give in to darkness easily, as he would forever refuse to submit to the lust for power.

"Better," she replied, entering and closing the door softly behind her. "Thanks to you and the Light." She had told herself, standing on the other side of the door, that she didn't want to be in love. On this side of the door she knew it wasn't true. And as soon as she saw him she knew it wasn't a distraction, but an enhancement, an augmentation. Khadgar had once already bridged the gap between her despair and the infusion of life that the Light provided. She realized the significance of this. Yet she hesitated to expose her feelings to the daylight.

Kinsale joined him at the map table. They went over the diplomatic strategy for the Broken Isles, and the plans for building a resistance movement against the Legion. They discussed the search for the tools of the titans, the Pillars of Creation, and speculated on the Burning Legion's underlying reasons for the intensity of this new invasion. It was all important to the campaign, and it all mattered, but what mattered more was what lay beneath the impersonal words. They were each aware of the closeness of the other. They were sharing time and space.

At last the briefing session approached its conclusion. Kinsale prepared to leave, armed with information about this unfamiliar area and its people, and the conviction that this mission was essential to putting the campaign on the right footing.

"I wish I was going with you," Khadgar told her. "I will come out to your location when I can. And if there's anything at all you need, let me know." He dared to reach out for that mental link they had shared so briefly. " _ Anything _ ," he carefully projected, not completely certain he had connected. Conjuring illusions was one thing, entering another mind something else altogether. Hopefully one word wouldn't hurt. He was just reinforcing a point, after all.

She smiled, and though her smile was genuine and warm, he could still the sadness of loss that lingered in her. He knew it like his own. Kinsale laid her hand on his arm and he felt warmed. "Thank you, for everything," she said. "I will keep you informed of my progress."

He placed his hand over hers and replied, "I look forward to hearing from you." He smiled back at her. She took her leave then, carrying with her the sensation of his hand on hers. She passed Kalec on her way up the stairs to street level, and smiled at him. His perplexing non sequitur earlier was beginning to make more sense to her.

"Light be with you, Kalec," she said to him. He smiled and nodded in response.

***

Several weeks later, Kinsale had made good progress in her diplomatic mission. She had some reliable information on the locations of three of the Pillars of Creation and some promises of assistance in acquiring them. She had posted her latest report that morning to Khadgar to update him and the council. He had so far replied with a personal note to every one of her reports, and she had carefully folded each one up and stowed it in her trunk, security against the nights when the darkness was too heavy and reminded her of those she missed the most.

It had been a long day in Highmountain, with a trip up the slopes to a mining camp and back down again. Her muscles ached even after a hot bath. She had been given her own hide-wrapped cabin to sleep in, with a small brazier and a thick straw pallet piled with soft woolen blankets and furs. It was practically luxurious compared to some expeditionary accommodations she had stayed in. It was also surprisingly private for a house built of skins, and allowed her to be completely alone and herself for at least a little while each day.

She sat on the edge of the bed with her journal, making notes on the events of the day. The tip of her pencil snapped off, and groaning with exasperation she reached into her pack, digging for the small gnomish-made gadget that reliably brought her pencils back to a sharp point. Instead, her hand closed around a hard, glassy object, barely larger than a gold coin. Khadgar's mana gem. Kinsale had completely forgotten to return it when she saw him last in Dalaran. She hoped it wasn't vitally important.

She pulled it out of her pack, setting her journal and pencil aside. Thinking about Khadgar was much more appealing, especially when she was tired and sore and needed comfort. The crystal sparkled quietly in the palm of her hand, reflecting the candlelight she had been using to write by. It was such a deep blue in this light, as if it changed according to time of day. This hue reminded her of his eyes that night in Draenor. She thought back, enjoying the flutter in her stomach as she remembered all the times she'd been in his company since then.

Kinsale lifted her eyes and gazed into the flickering coals of the brazier as her fingers closed around the mana gem. She felt her heart swell with affection for the man she'd known so long but whose company she'd only recently learned to enjoy. She remembered how he'd held her when she'd been most precariously grief-stricken, and how her hand had echoed with his touch for hours after she had left Dalaran on her quest for the Pillars. She imagined being in his arms again and felt desire flare within her. Holding the gem now was like holding a tiny piece of him. The crystal was warming to her body temperature, and if she'd been looking at it, she would have noticed it was reacting in an unusual way.

Far away, in Dalaran, Khadgar sensed the gem come alive. He was in the midst of a conversation with Archmage Modera and Archmage Kalec over the leyline distribution in Azsuna and its potential for use against the Legion when he began to feel warmth flowing out to the tips of his fingers and toes. After the years he'd spent at Turalyon's side, he recognized the physical manifestation of Light. He knew it was Kinsale who was sending this Light through his arcane token. As she sat in Highmountain, thinking of him, she was pouring her power through the nether, amplified by his own conjured crystal, to cascade over him in a shower of brilliant sparks.

Khadgar broke off midsentence and stared off into nothing. Modera was alarmed.

"Khadgar, what is it? Is everything okay?" She shook his shoulder. Khadgar was beginning to glow as if struck by a stray sunbeam in the dim nook of the Hall of the Guardian where they stood.

Kalec had an idea what was going on and pulled Modera back. "It's alright. I think... this is personal." Modera looked a thousand questions at Kalec, but said nothing. To Khadgar, Kalec merely said, “Go, friend.”

Khadgar had instinctively reached out towards the source of this joy, sending something of the same in return. He wrapped Kinsale with a softly shimmering wave of arcane energy. He could almost feel her in his arms. The combination of Light and arcane and his own desire resulted in a warm rush of euphoria. He felt he was ringing like a thousand church bells.

Back in Highmountain, Kinsale felt as if a wave of sparkling stars had washed over and swirled around her. She felt a tingling in her hand, and remembering the gem she held there, she looked down. Now, in the palm of her hand she held a crystal full of blazing blue fire and dancing lights, where before it was merely a quiet touchstone. It felt like her head was full of galaxies and the gem was channeling enchantment into her.

Then she heard, or rather felt, Khadgar's voice in her mind. He sounded startled.

"Kinsale? Do you...do you want me? With you?" He said it so softly she almost didn't understand what he said.

Her guard down, her heart pounding, her mind swirling with magic, she said to the empty room, to the gem, with the full voice of her being, "Yes!"

With an expression of great surprise on his face, Khadgar blinked out of the Hall of the Guardian. Modera gasped. Kalec merely smiled.

***

Blinking to the location of the conjured gem took rather more energy than using a standard teleportation spell, but because of Kinsale's gift, Khadgar had some energy to spare. He also hadn't really thought about it, he just did it.

Kinsale was still sitting on the edge of the tauren-sized pile of furs, crystal in hand, when he appeared in front of her barely a breath's length after she'd said yes to his query. He dropped to his knees before her, as if a supplicant at the altar, and looked at her with eyes still awash with Light. He placed his hands carefully on the furs either side of her, close enough to feel her warmth through her sleeping clothes but not touching. He looked searchingly into her face.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Khadgar asked quietly. "I am an old man, now both inside and out, and have never had a great deal of experience with love."

Kinsale smiled and lifted her free hand to stroke his cheek. The radiance intensified briefly and he felt a bolt of fire crash through him. "We are not so many years apart, Khadgar. I was fifteen when you went through the Dark Portal to destroy it. You no longer appear older than you are, and you are a good man, wise and always seeking to defend the Light. And you knew to comfort me when I needed it most. How could I not feel for you?"

She paused, her fingertips still touching his jaw, bristly now with stubble, no longer wearing the long white beard he had been known for in years past.

"Do you..." she swallowed, trying to dispel a sudden doubt from her mind, "do you feel differently about me?"

"Me?" he broke into a wry grin. "You captured my heart in Draenor. I just never had any expectations, having appeared to be an old man for the last thirty years." Khadgar grew serious again. "But you, you're like my shining beacon of light in the darkness."

The mana gem slipped from Kinsale's hand into the bed furs as she used both hands to pull Khadgar's face close to hers, and they kissed. They were both still alive with the transcendent energy they had already exchanged, and when their lips met it was like two stars colliding in the night sky. His arms closed around her and pulled her close, and hers slipped around his shoulders. When they separated from the kiss they stayed like that for a while, cheek to cheek, just reveling in the closeness and the intensifying flame of desire.

They spent the rest of the evening discovering each other and themselves, using the mental link they had created as a means of communicating things that words could not describe.

***

When the first sunbeams into the valley struck the hides of the small cabin, it lit up inside like a bowl of warm honey. This was what woke Kinsale most mornings in Highmountain. But this morning she too felt lit up inside, and opening her eyes to see an archmage peacefully sleeping next to her, with his silver hair rumpled, brought out an irrepressible smile on her face. His eyes opened too, then, as if he had felt her gaze.

"I stayed for breakfast this time," Khadgar whispered. And grinned.

***

Kinsale was back in Dalaran to restock traveling supplies when a floating eyeball approached with a note stuck to it. It wasn't often she saw an Eye of Kilrogg used as a message delivery service. In fact, she only knew of one warlock who liked to use the Eye in such a manner. She pulled the note off and read it, and her assumptions were confirmed. Her friend Marariel, the current Netherlord, had come across some information that she wanted to share.

They had met during the campaign against the Scourge in Northrend, when Kinsale had been impressed by the warlock's control of fel power without seeming to be consumed by it as so many others were. They had developed a comradeship of sorts, fond of lengthy discussions on various odd topics.

Kinsale nodded at the Eye, which somehow blinked in response though it did not possess an eyelid. It turned and floated back in the direction from which it had approached. Kinsale turned in to the Greyfang Enclave to stow her packages in the room she kept there, and headed for her friend's rooms at A Hero's Welcome, the Alliance inn.

She knocked on the door and entered to find Marariel speaking with another warlock. "Ah! Kins, let me introduce you to Kira Iresoul, one of the champions I trust most within the warlock order hall." They nodded at each other. "She came across some potentially critical intelligence, and I thought of you as the best and most likely person to get it to the proper ears." Marariel's eyes twinkled. "Since you've got connections on the Council."

Kinsale's cheeks went slightly pink, but she smiled as she sat down next to them. "Pleased to meet you, Kira. And I can certainly pass along information that can't be reported in the usual way. What's happened that might require such discretion?"

"Thank you, ma'am," said Kira. "You see, it hasn't been confirmed, and we didn't want to cause a panic in Dalaran..." She took a deep breath and began her tale.

"I was in Felsoul Hold in Suramar, doing a bit of, well, undercover work, when I came across an Illidari demon hunter who had been captured and tortured. I freed her from her bonds and escorted her back to the Illidari Stand outpost in Azsuna, and in return she told me about what she had overheard about the Legion's plans to destroy Dalaran with one of those huge demonic command ships that is hovering over Suramar. It sounded plausible, but I didn't want to report it without verification. And a normal status report is likely to be read by many, and it could have started a lot of trouble and dangerous rumors. So I approached the Netherlord for advice." Here she looked over at Marariel, who took up the narrative.

"Yes," said Marariel, "and I thought of you right away. To be fair, it was as much for your experience with targeted invasion operations and your focused opposition to the Legion as it was for your friends in the Kirin Tor. Although having connections certainly helps."

Kinsale nodded, considering the implications of such information. The thought of Dalaran being obliterated made her blood run cold. Her hand instinctively went to her chest, where she now carried Khadgar's mana gem in a small pouch that hung on a cord around her neck.

"You did the right thing to bring this to me," Kinsale told them. "You can absolutely rely on my discretion, and I will try to keep you informed and involved in planning a response if it is at all possible. Thank you." She rose from her chair. "I will speak with Khadgar right away."

They said their farewells, and as Kinsale headed for Khadgar's library in the Chamber of the Guardian, she used the mana gem to transmit a request that he meet her there. He teleported in just as she crossed the threshold.

"What's up?" he asked her, his pleasure at seeing her changing to concern when he saw the look on her face and felt the traces of her apprehension.

Kinsale explained the situation as Kira Iresoul had described it. Khadgar's face grew even more serious as he added this threat against Dalaran to those that had been made previously by other agents of the Legion.

"We will need to verify the source, obviously, and check into her particulars. I've established contacts in the Illidari that I believe would help us and keep the information confidential. Then we'd need to determine what steps to take to counter the threat." Kinsale hadn't been made Highlord solely based on a dying man's request. She also had the gift of remaining rational and level-headed in the face of danger, or at least of appearing that way, and therefore being able to provide a point of stability amongst chaos.

Khadgar himself often appeared to be jumping feet first into situations, but this was due in part to the fact that he processed information at such a speed as to seem overhasty in his actions. His immediate reaction to the presentation of this news was wanting to shift into raven form and reconnoiter the ships in Suramar himself. He was aware of the dangers of taking this course, and he acknowledged that Kinsale's suggestions were far more reasonable and cautious. It would just take more time. Khadgar, sensing the potential for a trap, resigned himself to caution.

"I will come with you. I need to hear this." His mouth formed a grim line. Kinsale nodded.

They flew down to Azsuna together, Kinsale on gryphonback and Khadgar as a raven. When they landed, she tried to make sense of how he shifted back into his body but her brain was simply unable to process what her eyes were seeing. It was just a blur and a shimmer. She shook her head and looked around for her recent Illidari acquaintance, Jace Darkweaver.

Kinsale saw him standing with another demon hunter outside a large tent that appeared to be the command center for the encampment. "There," she said to Khadgar, indicating Darkweaver. They headed over to the command tent.

After greetings were made and they had entered the relative privacy of the tent, Kinsale explained that information had been received about Legion activities by way of a certain Lyana Darksorrow, a demon hunter that she understood had been captured and abused by the demons at Felsoul Hold. She asked about Lyana's history with the Illidari.

Jace Darkweaver confirmed the report and added to it. "Yes, Lyana was captured with several other Illidari during that ill-fated raid on the Legion outpost. She returned to us just two days ago, having been rescued by one of your Alliance operatives. I'm afraid I don't recall the name, but I'm sure it's recorded in the log if you needed verification." He went on to relate what he knew of Lyana, which was quite a bit. It seemed he had recruited her. He spoke highly of her loyalty and dedication.

"We'd like to speak with Lyana, if that's possible. We would just like to get a clearer picture of the situation she presented to our operative." Kinsale was not willing to reveal all she knew just yet. The Illidari were still not a known quantity in her mind.

"Of course," Jace said. "I will send for her." And he stuck his head outside the tent and instructed his assistant to fetch the rescued demon hunter. When his assistant had left to find her, Jace returned to face Kinsale and Khadgar. "You will permit me to stay?"

Kinsale looked at Khadgar, who nodded. "Of course," he said. "She is under your command. You have every right to stay. This is not an interrogation."

When Lyana Darksorrow entered the tent, she still showed the lingering signs of her capture. She was covered in fading bruises and healing lacerations. Even the strange fire of her eyes was unusually dim and she was unsurprisingly wary, glancing from Jace to Kinsale to Khadgar as introductions were made.

She hesitated to speak of her experience, but gradually the tale was extracted, and it matched up with what Kira Iresoul had reported.

There was a Legion command ship hovering over Suramar, with the ultimate goal of destroying Dalaran and sending it crashing into the sea. This would eliminate the central hub of the resistance to the Legion invasion, and essentially extinguish the Kirin Tor. Kinsale tried to suppress a shiver.

Lyana did not know when the attack was supposed to occur, or exactly what sort of assault would take place. What she had heard was mostly boasting of the rewards that would be earned by her captors for successfully destroying the floating violet city, and of the pleasure they would have in tormenting and converting its powerful inhabitants.

Kinsale and Khadgar looked at each other, both of them imagining the destruction such an event would set in motion. As one they turned back to the demon hunters.

"Thank you very much for your time and information," said Kinsale. "Can I just ask that you not speak of this with anyone else, save the Kirin Tor Council itself, should it be required?" They agreed, and farewells were made.

Jace remained in his command tent as Lyana followed the Archmage and the Highlord outside. She watched as Kinsale and Khadgar walked towards the flight master together, their arms brushing against each other, Khadgar leaning close to speak in Kinsale's ear. And then they were in the air, gryphon and raven, on their way back to the city of mages.

***

They met up again in Khadgar's library, as he had suggested before they left Illidari Stand, to determine how to proceed.

Kinsale walked through the door and straight into Khadgar's arms. The sense of impending doom left her chilled right through. His solidity and warmth stabilized her again as it had done several times already, and her fear began to convert to the righteous anger that always led her in the defense of the defenseless.

For his part, Khadgar was again reminded of the sanctity and wonder of life, which had given his lifelong compulsion to stop Gul'dan and fight the Legion a greater depth of purpose. There was much worth saving, and he knew he didn't grasp even a tiny fraction of it.

They separated after just the time it took for a few breaths, and easily shifted back to the matter that demanded their immediate attention.

"What do you think?" Khadgar asked Kinsale. He knew her observations would be carefully considered and her strategy sound. If there were any gaps, he could fill them in. He didn't expect any.

Kinsale took a breath, which gave her a moment to compose a reply. "Well, obviously we have to consider it could be a trap. Everything seems to line up, but we know that demons are skilled in misdirection and false presentation. And we don't have much history of a positive nature with the Illidari, though they seem as driven to destroy the Legion as any of us. I just don't see that we have much choice on what to believe and who to trust." She paused as she mentally switched gears. "What I'd like to do is take a small assault force and remove the commander of the ship and disable any equipment that would permit them to achieve what they are threatening. We can't just sit and wait for them to attack, because given the time, they will summon waves and waves of demons and just overwhelm us."

Khadgar nodded. "I agree that it could be a trap, or a diversion while some other assault is launched. I also agree that there is little time to investigate. We must act." He had known he would face the situation of putting Kinsale in harm's way eventually. Surprisingly, it was not as difficult as he'd anticipated. Even staring into the maw of a potential trap, he trusted her strength and intellect as much as his own. Yet he was not without fear. He was never without fear. He sighed softly.

Kinsale hesitated, feeling the same fear and not wanting to say what she needed to, but she forged onward. "I think you should be here in Dalaran, to defend the city with the Kirin Tor. Twenty soldiers can be lost and the war still won, but an entire city of knowledge and power and the hub of a resistance...if that were to fall..." She took a deep breath. "You should be here."

In the muted light of the library Khadgar's blue eyes were dark as night. The flicker from the everburning candles was just enough to catch the gold in Kinsale's. They held each other's gaze for a long moment. Some things that did not need words passed between them.

Finally Khadgar broke the silence. "I must present this to the rest of the Council," he said. "They should be informed, and we ought to formally request their approval to launch an assault. If the Council don't approve it we will just have to figure out how to work around them." Khadgar considered each of his fellow councilmembers and guessed at how each would stand. He was usually pretty accurate with these mental tallies. "It may be a close thing."

They worked out a few more details about the proposed assault before they returned to the upper levels of Dalaran. Kinsale slipped into the inn to find Marariel while Khadgar summoned the other archmages of the Council of Six.

Kinsale and Marariel met Khadgar outside the council chamber and the three entered together. Marariel presented the original intelligence report that she had received from her operative, and Kinsale followed up with the information from the interview at Illidari Stand. Khadgar outlined the proposed response to the threat. There were few questions raised. Then the mages indicated they would like some privacy to deliberate, so Marariel and Kinsale stepped outside the chamber.

Kinsale took the opportunity to explain to her colleague and friend how she would like to include some of the Dreadscar Rift warlocks in her team. "We'll obviously need to counter and disable some demonic devices, and I'm hoping that one or two of your undercover agents can assist us with navigating our way into the ship. Can I count on you?" she asked.

Marariel nodded. "Absolutely. Anything you need, you have my full support."

"That will be very helpful. Can I get four of your team to meet us at Felblaze Ingress just before dawn?" Kinsale noted the time displayed on the ornate hall clock and hoped it was accurate. Sixteen hours to prepare. "I mean, if the Council hands down an outright prohibition of action, we will have to find an alternate plan. But I intend to counter this threat, however it can be done." Her face was deadly serious.

The door to the Council chamber opened and Khadgar beckoned them inside. His eyes met Kinsale's and he gave a short nod. She could see the fire in his eyes and wondered if he'd had to fight to get the result he wanted or if it was purely anger at the threat to his world. Kinsale could feel its heat. She was still surprised by the ease at which they could sense each other's emotions when they were near, and how much she welcomed the connection.

Archmage Modera gave the council's decision. They had agreed to support an invasion, though it was obvious they were not wholeheartedly in favor of it. Kinsale thanked the Council and promised to keep them informed of events.

On their way out, Khadgar leaned close to Kinsale to speak directly into her ear. "Come see me before you leave the city."

She nodded in affirmation. "Of course. I will see you in a few hours." Their eyes met for one more brief exchange before they parted to set the offensive on its course.

***

The strike team was organized, and the plan had been set in motion. In six hours, Kinsale and her paladins, together with the Dreadscar warlocks, would move on Felsoul Hold and attempt to disable the hulking ship that darkened the sky above. There were only two more things Kinsale needed to get before she left Dalaran for the staging area: a few hours sleep and some time with Khadgar. She took the gamble that she would still sleep if she met with Khadgar first.

He caught her in the upper level of the Chamber of the Guardian before she could reach their normal meeting place in his library. "Not here," he said. "I have something else in mind." Khadgar cast a teleportation spell that took them both to a spacious circular chamber, ringed with tall windows and multiple levels of bookshelves. It was obviously a private chamber, for at one side there was a bed draped in violet mageweave, but Khadgar was heading for the double doors in the opposite curve of the room. He opened them and stepped out onto an equally spacious balcony. Kinsale followed and stepped past him to the railing.

They were high up in the tower of the Violet Citadel, and the ornate balcony encircled the tower like a band of gold. The view was breathtaking. Even the half moon cast enough light that the snows of Highmountain were visible from their vantage point. Kinsale could see the ruined branches of Shaladrassil rising above Val'sharah, and the muted sparkle of the exposed crystalline ley lines of Azsuna. She could see the scars of the Legion camps, outlined with caustic green felfire.

Khadgar stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, resting his cheek against her hair. "This is just a small fraction of the world we have to save," he said softly. "It's full of life, of people who love each other. It's not perfect but it is part of us. It is us."

Kinsale turned in his arms. Her eyes were heavy with the threat of tears. She laced her arms around his neck and they kissed, and the emotions that passed between them were a jumble of longing and desire, of hope and despair. "Khadgar," she whispered when they paused for breath, "I'm not sure if I could ever be without you now."

"No suicide mission I've undertaken has required as much courage as I feel I need right now, knowing I could lose you at any moment," Khadgar replied. "Before, I felt I had to fight so others could live, and now I fight because I want to live, because I want you to live. Everything has changed." He held her tighter as she buried her face in his chest.

"Perhaps," he said quietly, to himself as much as to his love, "perhaps we care so fiercely because we will lose everything." His eyes glittered in the moonlight.

***

Dawn was fast approaching as Kinsale checked the buckles on her mount's harness, and adjusted her armor one last time. The Illidari outpost where the team met up was a short ride across the Azsuna border from their goal in Suramar. Marariel's warlock information-gatherers had drawn a map indicating where there was a Legion portal in Felsoul Hold that functioned as the main ship-to-ground transporter. They were going to make for that portal as swiftly as they could, and try not to draw too much attention to the fact.

As the rising sun hit the topmost pinnacle of Dalaran, they were riding the narrow trail up the cliff on the Suramar side of the ford. Once at the top, Kinsale and Marariel and their lieutenants stood at the edge of the crater that encompassed Felsoul Hold and observed the activity of the demons below. Demons did not keep normal human hours, but the level of activity did not appear to be any different than what any of the team had seen in their prior experiences with Legion encampments. It should not be too difficult to approach their target directly, and it was not far.

Kinsale focused her thoughts on her mana gem, sending the message to Khadgar that all appeared as normal. He was standing on his balcony in the upper levels of Violet Citadel, watching and waiting, when he received the image of what she was seeing and the sense that nothing was out of the ordinary. This communication system they had stumbled upon was a blessing. Mages sometimes used arcane pathways to communicate between themselves but according to Khadgar's recent research it was far more unusual to find a non-arcane wielder who could use such pathways with ease, even with the assistance of a tool like a conjured crystal. He was grateful for it, especially now, when he wanted to be at the front line but knew that any mage confronting the Legion was at a greater risk than any other combatant. The Legion lusted after Azeroth's arcane power. They had been hunting Azeroth's mages for generations, to corrupt those they could and to destroy those they could not corrupt.

The Council was on standby in case of attack, a shield ready to be deployed over Dalaran. As the rising sun illuminated the city, Khadgar waited.

On the rim of the crater, Kinsale gave the signal, and the squad dismounted. They left the horses with two young squires and descended silently into the crater on foot.

The approach to the portal was uneventful, with only a few low-ranking demons crossing their path. They were quickly dispatched by the paladins or bound by the warlocks and rendered non-aggressive. Kinsale was a bit surprised that the fel portal itself was only guarded by a single  dreadguard, who was easily neutralized before he could sound an alarm.

She looked around at her assembled team and assessed their readiness. When she was sure, she gave a sharp nod and raised the Ashbringer above her. "For the Light!" she said in a low voice, and led the way into the sickly green light of the portal.

They found themselves on a raised platform at one side of a cavernous metallic chamber that tapered to a point in the shadows high above their heads. Opposite them was a similar elevated platform, containing a device that projected a rotating transparent image of a night elf form. Behind the device was a closed door. Empty demonsteel cages hung from chains many feet above an ornately wrought floor. The design of the floor was like a luminous fel green gemstone set with four prongs pointing towards the center of the room, and seemed to be the main source of illumination for the chamber. The only other furnishing in the room was an altar against one wall, with what appeared to be a hastily closed tome lying on its dark but lustrous surface. There were no commanding eredar, no servile demons. But at either side of each platform there were passageways that led down to another level.

Kinsale signaled to divide the team in half, each half taking a passageway. The passageways were patrolled by dreadguards equipped with vicious blades. After Kinsale's contingent subdued two of these, they gathered in the shadow at the bottom of the passage. The room before them was clearly a command center of some kind. Each wall had a projection displayed on it, and each had an eredar before it. Some of the projections appeared to be charts, and some appeared to be interactive devices. In one corner Kinsale saw a floating dimensional projection of a city. Dalaran. The spires were instantly recognizable. She tried to send images to Khadgar as proof their decision to act was sound, but she was unsure if she reached him. The way to him seemed darkened, or somehow blocked. She had no time to waste worrying about it now, though, she could see the other half of her team huddled at the bottom of the opposite passage. She made the prearranged signals.

The paladins of the Silver Hand and the priests and warlocks that joined them burst forth into the command room, surprising the half dozen eredar working there and killing them quickly. The makeup of Kinsale's hastily assembled team lent itself well to a stun-slash-burn method that was highly effective against less powerful Legion agents. More than one fell victim to the Ashbringer and were rendered into dust. The navigational devices were turned into useless scrap by swords and fire and spells that overloaded their circuits. With the sense of swift victory building in their hearts, the paladins led the charge back up to the portal.

And the immense chamber above now contained dozens of demons.

***

From his perch, Khadgar continued to wait, with growing impatience. His mind raced, turning over all the possible permutations this encounter could be taking. He was also feeling for any activity in the conjured crystal that he'd made sure Kinsale was carrying with her. It had remained silent since dawn, when he'd caught the image of the crater of Felsoul Hold as seen from the rim. This worried him. Surely after this many hours... His attention shifted as he sensed unusual movement in the streets below. A dark figure was winging his way with haste from Krasus' Landing towards the Citadel. Khadgar immediately teleported to the top of the Citadel steps to meet the visitor.

It was the Illidari captain, Jace Darkweaver. "Archmage," he said, out of breath and not bothering with a formal greeting. "It's Lyana Darksorrow. We found her tent-mate murdered and she has vanished. I fear she has been turned and that the information you gained from her is false." He was both angry and distraught that he may have harbored a Legion spy. "Please tell me that no one is in danger yet as a result."

The storm that passed across Khadgar's face was enough to reveal that action had already been taken based on the false intelligence. When he spoke, it was in a carefully measured tone. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Forgive me, but I must address the situation immediately." He turned and blinked into the Council chamber at the base of the tower, where he knew he would find little support for his new plan of attack.

***

There was a collective intake of breath as Kinsale's assault team realized what confronted them. The fel portal they had used to acquire access to the ship had vanished. They were massively outnumbered. The options that presented themselves were few indeed. Kinsale tried to stifle the rising panic in her gut. She gripped her sword and reached deep within herself to draw upon the strength of her faith in the Light.

Across the room, an enormous fire-skinned eredar watched as the small group of Alliance weighed their chances. Standing next to him on the elevated platform was a smaller figure that seemed familiar. Kinsale heard Kira Iresoul speak behind her. "But...that's Lyana?"

A draenei priest added, "And that is Balaadur. The hunter of mages."

Kinsale felt the blood drain from her face. But there was nothing for it. They fought to the death or they would be captured and tortured. Kinsale preferred to fight. She raised the Ashbringer above her head and cried, "For the Light! For Azeroth!" and led the charge into the masses of demons.

Balaadur watched from above as the sixteen mortal combatants attempted to lay waste to the Legion army that blocked their escape. As soon as one demon fell, three were there to take its place. Balaadur was amused. He was content to silently observe as the human paladin slashed her way forward, her greatsword shining with such a light that lesser demons flinched and avoided looking into the glare. He was waiting until she and her supporters were just where he wanted them.

Next to him, Lyana Darksorrow also watched in anticipation. The Highlord of the Silver Hand had fallen, nay, jumped into the trap Lyana had carefully laid at the instruction of her new masters. And as a bonus, the Netherlord of Dreadscar Rift had come along. This would surely earn her greater rewards and higher stature among the Legion ranks. Now, if she had wagered well, a far larger prize would soon appear and Lyana's fate would be even more glorious, her power even more elevated. She had not expected that the Highlord would be in such close association with the Archmage Khadgar, or that they would so obviously fail to disguise the fact. Rumors of Lord Gul'dan's long history of rivalry with and hatred of Khadgar had not gone unheeded, and when the wizard himself had joined the Highlord in questioning her, she rejoiced to think that her small part in undermining the morale and leadership of the Alliance could result in the capture of one of the Legion's most powerful enemies.

The small cluster of humans and draenei and dwarves were fighting valiantly along one side of the room, keeping the dark steel wall at their backs. None had yet fallen, though they all had been marked by claws or blades, and a few scorched by flame. Their new goal was to kill Balaadur or die trying. If theirs was to be the ultimate sacrifice, Kinsale thought, at least they could quell the threat against the Kirin Tor. For as long as it took to regenerate a demon in its own dark place of origin, anyway.

Balaadur decided they had come far enough, and spread his huge hands, a green flame flickering in each palm.

"Greetings, paladin! Welcome to this gathering we've held in your honor." His voice reverberated across the assembly, drowning out the cackling and grunting and other indescribable noises issuing from demonic throats. His voice was metallic and strange, like shards of obsidian and molten iron. "Our friend Balnazzar will be most pleased to recover his trophy." The demon laughed.

The Ashbringer flickered as Kinsale paused, a demon slumping into ash before her. It was common among demons to taunt their foes with insults and threats, but so too was it common among dwarves, and she recognized it for what it was and paid it little heed. Balaadur was still too far for her holy spells or her blade to reach, but they might be just in range for the warlocks. She turned her head to find one and realized Marariel was beside her. "Are we close enough for you yet?" Kinsale asked in a low voice.

"Just enough," the warlock answered, slightly out of breath from the effort it took to bend the overwhelming fel energies of the room back upon its occupants. She began to form a mass of orange flame, intended to envelop her opponent and set it alight. The other three warlocks followed her lead, while the paladins remained focused on distracting and dispatching the enemies directly before them. The priests noted the change in attack focus and began weaving shields of light around the team, anticipating the retaliatory attacks from Balaadur.

Before the spell-casting could be completed, Balaadur brought his hands together swiftly, resulting in a concussive boom that shook the room. There was utter silence for a long moment where no one in the chamber was capable of drawing breath or exhaling. That moment was all the powerful eredar needed. He swept his arm in the direction of the assault force and spikes arose from the floor, encircling each member of Kinsale's group. From the spikes, chains shot out and wrapped around their bodies, securing their arms and legs, and restricting their breathing. Weapons clattered to the floor, and small demons scurried to gather them into piles out of reach of the prisoners. Even the grand artifacts carried by the Netherlord and the Highlord were dumped unceremoniously into the piles.

A great metallic rasping sound filled the room, and everyone looked up to see three large cages being lowered to land with a clatter in the space they had just fought through. The doors opened by some invisible mechanism. Balaadur raised one hand and a cloud of energy so dark as to appear to absorb light coalesced in front of it. He thrust his palm towards the sixteen captives and the cloud spread and swirled around them, pulling them towards the open doors of the cages. When they were all contained inside, the doors simultaneously swung shut with a loud clang, and a grinding of gears ensured they were securely locked. The magical chains evaporated and the paladins, priests, and warlocks could again breathe freely, though there was little room to move inside the cages.

They were trapped. Captured. Awaiting a fate worse than death at the hands of the Legion. There were rustlings and whisperings as spell-casts were attempted. Nothing worked.

"You will not find escape, mortals," intoned Balaadur. "Your prisons are made from enchanted demonsteel, threaded and locked with the silence of the void. No spells or chants can pass between those bars. But you may be sure you will be able to hear and see all as you each face your inquisitor. One at a time, of course." He laughed, a sound like the crackling of an immense fire.

Kinsale wrapped her hands around the bars of the cage door in which she was held, testing the strength of the lock. It was so tightly latched that the door didn't even rattle. There was no way out. She thought of Khadgar and their last goodbye. She didn't even dare to try to contact him now, even if she could have convinced the mana gem to amplify a signal in this Light-forsaken and magic-inhibited place. She leaned her forehead against the bars of the cage door, fearing what information they would be able to extract from her. Kinsale hoped she could be as strong as Tirion had been.

She felt a touch on her arm as one of the priests directed her attention at the center of the room, where the demonic horde seemed to be parting and creating a space around something. Kinsale raised her eyes to watch in confusion and then with growing horror as the air seemed to shimmer and solidify into a human form. She was paralyzed with terror as she saw Khadgar appear before her, unable to warn him, unable to cry out at all. She could only grip the bars of her prison door and watch as the confrontation with the great mage hunter played out.

"Ahh, Archmage. My lord Kil'jaeden was hoping you would join us." Balaadur sneered down from his perch. He made some signal to the demon hunter at his side, and she slipped through the door at the back of the platform, closing it behind her.

"I am not here alone, Balaadur," replied Khadgar.

"Oh, your friends?" The eredar gestured at the cages. "They will make excellent fuel for the Legion machine, whether we turn them or not." His face stretched into what appeared to be the demonic equivalent of a smirk.

Khadgar did not shift his gaze from Balaadur. He knew precisely who watched from behind the demonsteel bars, and paid no notice at all to the shifting mass of lesser demons that surrounded him. Instead, after concentrating just a moment, he swung his staff in a great whirl in front of him, summoning seven orbs of ice to crash like comets down upon Balaadur.

The demon flicked them aside like snowflakes. He stood and waited to see what the wizard's next trick would be.

Khadgar tried to draw more power out of his surroundings for a second attack, having used the reserve he stored in his staff, but the fel power that imbued the ship was making it far more difficult than usual. It felt even more painful and corrupt than any of his previous experiences with demonic forces had been. He reached deep within himself instead and tapped into his own fierce will, hurling a powerful lightning bolt at Balaadur's chest. Any normal foe in any normal circumstance would have been instantly incinerated, along with fifty of his friends.

Balaadur stood and laughed as the lightning fizzled and dissipated inches from his body, leaving no mark. "Your power is no good here, little mage. Do you think we have learned nothing in the centuries we have been hunting your kind?"

Khadgar was dismayed. The trap that had been sprung was tighter than he'd anticipated. And he'd just used nearly every ounce of strength he possessed just to demonstrate how well the Legion had prepared for him.

Kinsale swore to herself as she realized what the demon meant. This ship had been specifically crafted to block arcane magic. That was why she hadn't been able to use the mana gem before. But the Light was still accessible. She had been able to call upon her faith to smite down many demons before Balaadur had silenced and captured her. She focused on Khadgar and reached out for the Light, filling him with her own power. It was difficult to push through the enchanted cage, but not impossible, as she was not casting spells or using prayers. She was reaching through the conduit they had opened between them, pouring out every ounce of her belief in life itself so that he might be blessed and empowered.

Gradually Khadgar began to glow softly. A sigh of relief escaped him when he realized it, and he increased in brightness until he was like a flame. Some of the demons nearest to him were actually scorched as they shrieked at the blinding glare. He felt the power build within him, building and expanding until he felt it reach a peak. It wasn't something he could use to weave spells, but there was still a way to make it work for him. He concentrated on focusing the dazzling radiance in his staff, the infamous Atiesh, powerful in its own right. He raised it above his head and then slammed it down, hitting the floor with a thunderous crash. A luminous shockwave rippled out from where he stood, reducing dozens of the lesser demons to ash.

Balaadur spoke again, but no longer laughed. He seemed not to be able to identify the source of this unexpected infusion of light, and it troubled him. "You seek to impress me wizard? If you joined us, you would wield many times more power with less than a tiny fraction of the effort. It is not too late!"

"You will never turn me, demon. Never!" Khadgar still had a faint aura of holy light about him, but they all knew it was not enough for him use for any offensive action. Kinsale and her fellow prisoners held their breath, not wanting to see what would come next, but unable to look away.

The mage hunter moved his hands in a strange rhythmic pattern and spoke some words in a demonic tongue that made their mortal ears hurt to hear. Waves of shadow cascaded out from his fingers to explode in pools of darkness in the center of the chamber, obscuring the ornate glowing gemstone pattern of the floor. Khadgar used his last bit of energy to cast his best defensive spell, encasing his body in a solid block of ice. It protected him from the damage of the void pools, but when Balaadur hurled a huge ball of green fire at him, he was helpless to avoid it. He was not hurt by the flame, but the ice that shielded him shattered and he was knocked off his feet.

Before he could rise, Balaadur's flaming hands had brought down another silence across the room and wrapped him in the same demonic chains that had entrapped the others. The demon channeled an additional ribbon of shadowy void energy that entwined around Khadgar, burrowing into him as it sought his innermost self, further reducing his ability to breathe and think, and completely immobilizing him. Balaadur's orders were to capture the archmage alive, but nothing was said about not making him suffer first.

From the center cage came a terrifying sound as Kinsale screamed in rage at seeing Khadgar fall exactly as he had in her mind's eye so many weeks before. Her hands on the bars of the cage were incandescent and suddenly the demonsteel shattered under the force of the Light that tore through her. The door of the cage burst open and the locks on the other two cages exploded simultaneously in a shower of sparks.

Balaadur was startled as Silver Hand paladins and their warlock and priest compatriots poured out of the cages, scooping up their weapons from the piles that had been negligently allowed to remain nearby. The Ashbringer found its way into Kinsale's hand almost of its own volition as she ran towards where Khadgar lay on the floor. She cast a blessing of protection over him and a touched his chest with a quick flash of light to allow him breath, and as her lieutenant directed the team to eliminate the last of the lesser demons and destroy the Legion portal mechanism, she made a direct line for Balaadur.

"I see that trinket you wear, paladin." Balaadur smirked. "Conjured by the archmage for his consort. Does it bring you peace now?"

"I am no consort," Kinsale cried. "I am his champion!" She launched herself up the stairs to his platform, surrounded in a dazzling aureole of holy fury.

"You think to stop us, little paladin? I'm afraid the die has already been cast. This world will fall to the Legion, just as all the others have." He swept his great scarlet arm in front of him to launch a fel bolt at Kinsale. She lifted the Ashbringer to block it and it ricocheted away harmlessly. She swung the sword in graceful, whirling arcs, battering and slicing at the shield of fel energy he had surrounded himself with and reducing the swarming minions nearby to dust and ash.

Her lieutenant was at her side now, and she knew Marariel and the draenei priest were behind her. Baraadur could not focus on them all at once, and with his shield rapidly approaching failure, he was beginning to make defensive mistakes out of panic. Even if he had had time to bring the green flames to his hands, another silence now would have been ineffective, because he could not silence the blade of a sword.

"If you think killing me will stop the Legion and save your pitiful world, you have critically misjudged, human! I will return, and stronger, as will my comrades!" He launched a last violent attempt to protect himself, swiping with claws and drenching the area where he stood with green flame. The priests spoke power words, and the melee combatants were shielded from the fire and protected from the worst of the claws.

Kinsale responded fiercely. "It is YOU who have misjudged, demon! Because. You. Can't. Defeat. Love." She spat out the final five words, matching them with swings of the Ashbringer. The final slash broke through the fel shield and its momentum carried the sword into the demon's body, splitting him from shoulder to thigh. Baraadur collapsed and as he expired, his body disintegrated into yet another pile of ash. Kinsale gave it a swift kick, scattering his remains across the dais where he had stood.

Then she turned and leapt off the platform and raced to the center of the floor where Khadgar still lay crumpled on the floor, though the chains had fallen away. She dropped her sword and pulled off her helm and gauntlets, and they clattered unheeded on the metal surface as she fell to her knees and scooped Khadgar into her arms.

Chanting every healing and purification prayer she knew, Kinsale called upon the Light with each heartbeat to save her love from the destruction she had brought upon him.

When he had fallen, even though the darkness had shrouded his own eyes, Khadgar had seen the explosion of Light as Kinsale had come aflame and burst the cages. He had heard the blessings cast upon him and watched as the battle raged between the demon and those he had hoped to corrupt.  He had lain there, so completely drained of breath and energy from Baraadur's void spell that he was unable to move or open his eyes, even after the blessings had nullified their power. He had seen and heard everything not with his own senses, but as if he were part of Kinsale. And now he was coming back to himself and feeling the metal encased arm that supported his neck and shoulders, the battle-callused fingers that stroked his face. He felt drops of water falling on his nose and forehead, bursting like stars exploding as they landed.

Not water, but tears! He opened his eyes. Kinsale's face was inches away from his, still chanting prayers between sobs and gulps of air, her eyes screwed shut. He wiggled his free hand to see if his arm worked, and when he was assured it did, he lifted his hand to her cheek and pulled her down into a kiss.

Her eyes opened wide and then closed again as she felt the Light and his love wrap around her. She let it take her. When they parted, words tumbled out of her, half-formed apologies and pleas for forgiveness.

"This was all my fault. It was a trap. I should have seen it. I should have known. We should have done more..." She was still shattered by seeing him fall before her. Because of her.

"Shhh," Khadgar said, stopping her. His voice was barely a whisper. "I knew the risks, and I chose to take them. I also knew you better than the Legion did. Now, help me up." He was struggling to sit up on his own.

Kinsale helped him to his feet, where he was able to stand with her support. A cheer went up around the room. The ship's instruments had been destroyed, the last of the demons put down, and now the Highlord had brought the Archmage back from the brink of death. They could claim a victory today, though it had very nearly gone the other way.

Khadgar looked around at the assembled fighters. He said to them, "This is yet another reminder that only together will we defeat the Burning Legion. No single one of us can do it alone." He looked down into Kinsale's face and felt strengthened.

One of the paladins had approached the door where the traitorous demon hunter had made her exit. He threw it open, and the snout of a large blue dragon was visible outside.

"Kalec!" called Khadgar, and began to make his way up the steps with the help of Kinsale and a priest that had taken his other arm.

"Khadgar!" replied the dragon, who didn't mind the use of his nickname even when he was using his true form. "I believe I have something you were looking for."

And as they reached the door, which opened onto a balcony just large enough for a dragon's perch, Kalec lifted his head and they could see something trapped in his huge front claws. It was Lyana Darksorrow, who had been surprised to walk out of the assembly chamber into a dragon instead of a Legion portal. She had given up squirming, knowing that her fate at the hands of the Kirin Tor would probably be far better than if she escaped back to the Legion.

"Excellent work, friend." Khadgar congratulated the dragon. "Now, as our magic doesn't seem to work too well in these surroundings, is there any chance you could give a couple of us a lift?"

"Indeed." Kalec swung his head around to point out a parcel that he carried between his wings. "I have goblin gliders for those I cannot carry. Should get you well out of range of this lot." Here he indicated the demon army that milled around in the crater below the ship with another swing of his great blue head.

The paladin who had the initiative to open the door also was the first to leap up and remove the straps that secured the parcel to Kalec's back. He began passing out glider kits to each of the combatants.

Kalec could see the weakened state his friend was in, and lowered his shoulder even further so that Khadgar might be able to climb up to his neck ridge. Kinsale helped push him up, handed him his staff, and then stepped back so that they could take off back to Dalaran. But Kalec didn't move. "Come on then," he said to her. "Not leaving without you."

She looked around at her team, who were all strapping on their glider kits and securing their weapons. Marariel made a shooing motion with her hand. "Go!"

Kinsale's lieutenant gave her a quick nod. "We'll meet you in Dalaran. See the Archmage safely back."

With those assurances, Kinsale climbed up behind Khadgar and wrapped her arms around his midsection after adjusting her sword to avoid damage to the dragon's hide. When he was certain his passengers were secure, Kalec gently lifted off the balcony and turned in the direction of the floating violet city, still carrying the wayward Illidari between his front paws.

***

After Kalec had delivered the traitor to the keepers at Violet Hold, and outlined what Kinsale had told him of the assault on the demon vessel to the other members of the Kirin Tor Council, he returned to Khadgar's chamber to ensure that Kinsale had everything she needed. It had taken some effort to get her to leave Khadgar's side at all after he had collapsed upon his return to Dalaran, even just to change out of her armor and wash up. She was certain that the wizard's state of exhaustion was her fault and that the damage was irreparable, no matter how Kalec reassured her. Only Khadgar himself would be able to convince her otherwise, once he awoke.

The blue dragon had flown up to the balcony that circled Khadgar's chamber rather than teleport in. It was only partly to give warning to the occupants of his arrival. He also wanted to check the wards that protected the room from the outside. They seemed secure and undisturbed, but he added an extra layer just as a precaution. He, too, was concerned for his friend, even though he masked it well. When this was done, and he had shifted back into his half-elven form, he tapped lightly on the door before entering the chamber.

Kalec need not have worried about disturbing anyone. Kinsale was fast asleep on top of the quilts that covered Khadgar, pressed against his back, with her arm around him. Her hand had slipped inside the loose open neck of his shirt and lay protectively across his heart. Kalec whispered a few words and tilted his head, and the blankets rearranged themselves to cover Kinsale as well. She needed the sleep as much as the archmage did.

Before leaving them to their rest, Kalec checked that the gryphon whistle he had given Kinsale earlier was still on the table where she'd left it, and added one more thread to the protective wards, one that would let him know immediately if she left the room so that he could continue the vigil in her absence. Satisfied that there was little more he could do, he returned to the Hall of the Guardian to wait for dawn to arrive.

Kinsale awoke with the first light that flowed in the eastern windows of the tower chamber. She hadn't changed position since she had given in to exhaustion and laid down next to Khadgar, though somehow she didn't remember getting under the covers. She didn't want to move now, she wanted to lie there and listen to Khadgar's heartbeat until he too awoke, but the soldier in her reminded her of all the responsibilities she needed to face. The sooner she took care of them, the sooner she could return to his side.

She sighed heavily and carefully slipped out from under the quilts, trying to prevent the cooler air of the room from sneaking in and disturbing the sleeping mage.  She shoved her feet into soft boots and tried to tug some of the wrinkles from her rumpled tunic. Kinsale moved around to the other side of the bed and picked up the whistle Kalec had left for her, and knelt down in front of Khadgar.

There was no signs of yesterday's trials to be seen in his sleeping face. The lines of fatigue that had been present the night before were fading. She still worried that there was unseen damage and felt a renewed stab of guilt for leading him so close to his doom. Kinsale gently kissed his cheek before at last rising to attend to her duties as Highlord.

She was unprepared for the reception she received, both in the streets of Dalaran and in the halls of the Order of the Silver Hand. People she didn't know offered their thanks and congratulations, soldiers and citizens alike. A cheer went up as she entered her order hall. Kinsale was not buoyed by the praise. Rather, she took the opportunity to address the paladins that were gathered there with some gravity.

"Yesterday's success was not a great victory for us. It was a minor skirmish in a war that has just begun to reveal its horror. We fought hard and triumphed, but it was only through the mercy of the Light that we survived at all. Please remember this. Our faith in the Light is the only thing we can count on in these dark times." She drew a breath, and paraphrased Khadgar's own words. "And we can't do it alone. Together we shine brighter than any one of us alone." The hall was quiet for a moment as her speech settled over the assembled group. Then she saw her paladins nodding and heard their murmurs of assent spread through the room.

Having delivered this brief message, Kinsale gathered Tyrosus and Arator and her other lieutenants together and went through the events of previous day's mission one more time. She didn't want anything to remain a secret about the trap that had been laid or how they had fallen for it. She didn't want it to happen again.

***

Kalec was sitting in a chair beside the bed when Khadgar opened his eyes at last. "Kalec," he said.

"Friend! How are you feeling?" Kalec offered him a warm cup that smelled of restorative herbs, and, sitting up, Khadgar took the cup and downed its contents all at once.

"Much better. And you didn't need to watch over me. I was only sleeping." Because that was, of course, everyone's concern. That it was not sleep at all, but a fel-induced coma like those his former master, Medivh, had suffered.

"Of course I did. I am actually surprised to see you awake so soon, after what you looked like yesterday evening. I expected to be here longer than a few hours. Of course, you had a more devoted and salutary attendant during the night. She had to attend to her duties at Light's Hope, however. Would you like me to summon her back?" Kalec smiled. "She will want to know you're awake."

Something stirred in Khadgar's memory, an echo of a dream, the feel of a glowing hand touching his heart and the sound of chimes. He had known she was with him, hadn't he?

"No, don't trouble yourself just now," Khadgar said. "I would speak with you first. Did Kinsale tell you what happened?"

"She gave a full report. I almost felt I had been there. I have already shared the important details with the council. They were not pleased with our actions, of course, but they approved of the result."

"Kalec...if she had not been there..." Khadgar found it difficult to continue his thought.

"She told me all." Kalec said simply.

"No, you don't understand. I drained myself utterly trying to bring that demon down. I exposed myself, as Aegwynn did before Sargeras. If Kinsale had not infused me with her Light at that moment, I would have been completely unprotected. Balaadur would have reached into my very soul and taken me. I would have been lost." He fell silent. Kalec waited.

"I risked everything to save her, and it was she who saved me."

The rustle of large feathered wings and the scrape of claws on stone were the only warnings they received before the chamber door burst open. Khadgar threw back the blankets and stood up as Kinsale raced across the room into his waiting arms.

Kalec's eyebrow rose slightly in surprise at Kinsale's sudden appearance. Khadgar gave him a half-grin. "You didn't need to tell her I was awake. She already knew."

***

 

***

EPILOGUE

 

They stood together in Shattrath, looking up at A'dal. The naaru knew them and cast its benevolent glow upon them. The impression it gave, in its usual ineffable manner, was that it was pleased. A’dal had opened doors for them, and they had made the choice to step through.

In Khadgar's mind there had been some suggestion that A'dal had somehow arranged for he and Kinsale to become so easily attuned to each other. Now, standing before the being of pure Light, he was sure of it, and was thankful.

Kinsale had believed that the Light had laid her path, and she received assurance from A'dal that she was correct. As her faith and love grew, so did her capacity for greater Light. She was grateful for its gifts.

Together they stood before A'dal, hands joined, and received A'dal's blessings. Together they were amplified, magnified, greater than the sum of parts. Together they would seek to keep the dark forces that assaulted their world from consuming it.

  
  
  
  
  
  



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